Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ukraine and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kool Moe Dee to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Kool Moe Dee,
David McCallum,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
Josef K,
Fela Kuti,
Alton Ellis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tim Buckley,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
Archie Shepp,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
Monks,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
the Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
Mandrill,
Cybotron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New Order,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amon Düül II,
Flash Fearless,
Malaria!,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
L. Decosne,
Eric Dolphy,
Camberwell Now,
Mo-Dettes,
Sarah Menescal,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moleskins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
The Cure,
Ituana,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tears for Fears,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.